


You Are No Brother Of Mine

by DarkPhoenix1578



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Betrayal, F/M, Heavy Angst, Major character death - Freeform, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 03:14:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11980899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkPhoenix1578/pseuds/DarkPhoenix1578
Summary: What if Jaime had not escaped from King's Landing in the S07 finale?





	You Are No Brother Of Mine

"My lords, I need a moment alone with my brother." Her voice was soft and smooth as she dismissed the other men from the room. They left quickly, bowing their heads respectfully before making their exit out of the room. Jaime looked at her as she walked further into her room, her face blank and passive. The Mountain, encased in his new armor, trailed after her, blood red eyes peering ominously out from underneath his helmet. Jaime stared at him uneasily, unable to shake off the sense of foreboding that washed through his body every time he stood in the same room with him. 

"What are you doing?" she asked him as she walked towards him, her eyes questioning. They glinted with a mysterious amusement, an unanswered accusation hiding beneath the calm facade Cersei had positioned on her face. 

"Preparing for the expedition north." he answered her, as if she had asked an obvious question. 

He stared at the smirk that wormed its way onto her face. An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. "An expedition north?" she asked him quietly, holding her hands in front of her as she approached him. 

She had always been beautiful. Even now, with that all too familiar and uncomfortable scorn working its way past her impassive stare, Jaime's heart constricted. She was draped in her black clothing, with the ring of fur surrounding her neck. Her strides were long and confident. Her hair, which had once been so long and luxurious, stood atop her hair as a second crown of gold.  _My sister. My lover._

"I always knew you were the stupidest Lannister." 

The words hit him like a jab to the gut. His eyebrows furrowed and he stared at the floor, frowning deeply. Cersei moved past him, gifting him with an openly derisive glare. Jaime whirled around as she strode past, confusion painted across his face. 

"The Starks and Targaryens have united against us and you want to fight alongside them? Are you a traitor or an idiot?" She paused, her back turned to him. She turned around, staring at him expectantly, waiting for his answer. 

 _Traitor._ The word stung and swarmed in his mind. Defensive anger filled him, but he pushed it back and tried to preserve his calm. "We pledged our forces to fight our common enemy-"

"I say whatever I need to say to ensure the survival of our house." She cut Jaime off, with cold and clipped words. "You expect to trust the man who murdered our father? You expect me to command our troops to fight beside foreign scum? To fight for the Dragon Queen?" 

Jaime walked towards her, staring her in the eyes. "You saw with your  _own eyes._ You saw a dead man trying to kill us!" He searched her face for any sign of comprehension, of understanding the severity of the situation, but found only the arrogance and impenetrable illusion of confidence that frequented her face so commonly.  _Does she not understand,_ he thought in bewilderment to himself,  _that there are dead people trying to murder every single person in Westeros?_

"I saw it burn. " she replied. "If dragons can't stop them, if Dothraki and the Unsullied and all their men can't stop them, how will our armies make a difference?" 

Jaime stared at Cersei's indifference in outrage and disbelief. He shook his head as she spoke. "This isn't about noble houses. This is about the  _living_ and the  _dead."_

Her face showed no sign of having even considered the thought. It remained impassive, smug, and completely devoid of any willingness to be persuaded. Cold, green eyes stared back at him, empty of any warmth or understanding.  _She has been like this for a while,_ Jaime told himself.  _You have known this for a very long time._ Jaime grimaced.  _She has always been like this._

"And I intended to be amongst the living." she said to him. "Let the Stark boy and his new Queen defend the North. We stay here where we've always been." 

 _Is she blind?_ Jaime raged to himself. His face contorted with frustration as he listened to her.  _Has she lost any sense of honor or duty that she may have had when father had been alive?_ Jaime moved towards her again, glaring at her fervently.  _Maybe she never had any to begin with._

"I made a promise." he said to her. He had broken so many oaths already; he had killed his own king, a king he had sworn to serve and protect until his dying breath. Cersei's stare jarred his core. It implied,  _what is one more broken oath worth to you?_

Cersei moved closer to him. Her hand moved to her stomach, fingers splaying protectively over the new life growing inside of her. Jaime's eyes glanced downwards and his heart lurched uncomfortably again. He  _loved_ her.  _His_ child was inside her. Didn't he have an obligation to protect them both? Guilt threatened to crash through and overwhelm him. The urge to fall to his knees and beg her forgiveness, to pull her close to him and kiss her and make love to her pulled at him and he felt his resolve wavering as she walked towards him. 

"Our child will rule Westeros." 

"Our child," Jaime retorted, "will never be born if the dead come south."  _They will rule over ashes and bones._

Cersei smiled softly, but it was derisive and haughty. "The monsters are real." she admitted. "The White Walkers, the dragons, the Dothraki screamers." She turned away from him, her back to him now. "All the frightening stories we heard when we were young, they are all real. So be it." 

Jaime blinked, disbelief finally making it's way fully onto his face.  _Is she serious?_ He glanced down, unable to control his reaction. 

"Let the monsters kill each other." she continued, turning back around to face him. "And while they battle in the north, we take back the lands that belong to  _us."_

"And then what?" Jaime asked her. 

"And then we rule." Cersei answered. 

 _She has always been this headstrong._ Jaime told himself.  _Cersei has always believed in her own capabilities, far more than anyone else has. And it has always been her downfall._ "And the fighting in the north; someone wins, you understand that, don't you? If the dead win, they march south and kill us all." Her face, so calm, so beautiful, so  _infuriatingly_ uncaring. Jaime lost his composure. "If the living win, and we've betrayed them, they march south and kill us all!" 

Cersei sniffed. "The Targaryens and the Starks already want to kill us all. Most of them will die-"

"I faced them," Jaime countered, "in the field. We can't beat them. We can't beat their dragons!" 

"How many dragons did you see in the pit?" Cersei asked him. 

"Two." 

"What happened to the third?" 

Jaime scoffed, rolling his eyes. "For all we know it's guarding a fleet!" 

Cersei smiled, shaking her head slightly as she moved away from him again. The smug condescension on her face was plainly evident. Jaime could not  _understand_ her. They were facing an army of the dead, something that went beyond who was loyal to whom and house legacies, and she had the audacity to stand there and  _shrug it off?_

"She came here with her dragons and her Dothraki and her Unsullied. She came here to show us all her power." She scoffed with a smile again. "Now something happened." 

"We can't beat the Dothraki!" Jaime cried in exasperation.  _Why are we still having this conversation? The answer is clear._ "We don't have the numbers, we don't have the support of the other houses." 

"No, we have something better." Cersei replied, staring off into the distance, completely ignoring Jaime's frustrated movements towards her. "We have the Iron Bank." Her mouth curved into that satisfied smile Jaime had seen countless times on her face. It used to arouse him, seeing her so happy and so smug. He remembered seeing that expression on her face and wanting to fuck her into every nook and cranny in King's Landing with her staring at him like that. Now, it gave him chills. It terrified him, the way she so easily dismissed the threat of an  _undead army._

Jaime stared at her in complete dismay and confusion. She let out a small huff of laughter, staring at him condescendingly once more. "You should have listened more when father spoke about the importance of gold. I know, it's boring for you. You just wanted to hunt and ride and and fight. But I listened. I learned." 

Jaime could no longer ignore the hurt swelling in his chest. He glared at her, in pain and frustration and disbelief.  _She calls you an idiot. She calls you a traitor, the stupidest Lannister. This is the woman you love?_

Cersei sat in a chair, leaning back against it calmly and securely. "Highgarden bought us the most powerful army in Essos. The Golden Company. Twenty thousand men, horses, and elephants I believe." 

"The Golden Company is not  _here."_ Jaime scowled, groaning inwardly. They are in Essos. How is a mercenary company living in Essos going to help us?" 

"Do you really think Euron Greyjoy turned tail and sailed back to the Iron Islands?" Cersei asked him, staring expectantly at him. 

Jaime stared at him for a second, confusion evident on his face before it finally struck him.  _She didn't._

"Do you think he abandoned the chance to marry the Queen? No one walks away from me." His eyes were frozen to her face. She was staring at him, her eyes frozen over with a cold hardness he had never seen before. "He is sailing his fleet to Essos. He's going to ferry the Golden Company back here to help us win the war for Westeros." There was a rigid satisfaction on her face as she revealed her plan. Jaime could only look at her in shocked disgust. 

"You plotted, with Euron Greyjoy, without telling me, the commander of your armies?" 

"And you conspired with Tyrion, the man who murdered our father, without telling me, your Queen." 

"I didn't conspire-!" 

"You met with him in secret without my consent." Cersei snarled back at him, her eyes ablaze with cold fury. "You planned to promote my enemy's interests.  _That_ is the definition of conspiracy." 

Jaime walked over to her, until they were a mere couple feet apart from one another and he was bending over her. He stared directly into her eyes, into the eyes of the woman he used to love. Now, they only caused him consternation, grief, and hurt. 

"I made a pledge," he told her stiffly, "to ride north. I intend to honor that pledge." 

"And that will be treason." Cersei stated, her face harsh and blank. 

"Treason?" Jaime exclaimed. 

"Disobeying your Queen's commands and fighting with her enemies. What would you call it?" 

Jaime shook his head. He glared at her, anger and grief and hurt all swirling within him. He stared at her now and the realization hit him like the crushing weight of wagon toppling on top of him.  _She has never loved me. Not like the way I have loved her._ "It doesn't matter what I'd call it." he stated, before straightening and making a move to leave. He stopped short in surprise as as the Mountain, in his heavy armor and one giant hand gripped tightly on his enormous sword, stepped in front of him, blocking his path to the exit. 

 Jaime paused, his heart lurching in his chest. Panic seized him from the insides and he glanced questioningly over at Cersei. She stared back at him with rage. "I told you no one walks away from me." She stood up from the chair. 

"Are you going to order him to kill me?" he asked her, not wanting to know the answer to that question. She merely stared at him, her face constructed into a facade of indifference. "I am the only one you've got left. Our children are gone, our father is gone, it's just me and you now." He hated the desperation coloring his tone, the hurt and the panic swelling within his very being as he stared imploringly at his sister, at his former lover. 

"There's one more yet to come." she replied. 

He nodded. "Give the order then." he told her, instantly regretting his impulsiveness as he stared into Cersei's eyes. Green and vivid as always, but filled with a frightening hunger for revenge and for retribution. He stared at her as she hesitated, hoping she would say nothing and do nothing.  _I am all she has left. She will have no one, no family, not even her child will replace that-_

She nodded. And the sound of the Mountain unsheathing his sword was parallel to the cracking of his heart. He stared at the ground, panic and fear swimming through him as he waited for the Mountain to deliver the killing blow. After a few seconds, he glanced back up into Cersei's face. He saw fear there, too; for the first time in a long time, he saw emotion breaking through the disinterested callous that had formed over her personality. And for a brief moment, hope flared in his chest.  _I am all you have left, sister._

The sensation of a sword crushing through his armor and into his guts paralyzed him where he was standing. Pain scissored itself through his stomach and his hands automatically flitted to his stomach, where the broad front of the Mountain's sword was sticking out. He stared at the sword for a second, unable to acknowledge the fact that the sword was buried deep in his body. He glanced back up at Cersei, tears forming in the corners of his eyes as he finally let out a groan and collapsed to his knees. 

He could feel hot, pulsing blood leaking out of his wound, dribbling down his armor. The Mountain pulled back with a jerk and the sword left his body, sickening sounds of crushed bone and severed organs accompanying the sound of the sword making its exit. Jaime keeled onto his back, gasps emanating from his mouth as his hands fruitlessly tried to stem the flow of blood underneath his armor. Cersei stood over him, staring down at him with a mixed expression of guilt and fury. 

"You made me do this." she told him softly, watching as blood began to leak from the corner of his mouth. "I warned you not to betray me again." 

Jaime glared up at her, at the woman he had loved and the woman who had killed him. In that moment, another face swam in his vision. Bright, blue eyes stared compassionately at him, versus the harsh, green glint of Cersei's. A broad, fierce face stared in concern at him rather than Cersei, staring down at him with her beautiful, slender face.  _Brienne._ Jaime choked, blood spurting out of his mouth. Cersei swallowed, staring down at him with disgust in her eyes. 

"I love you." he gurgled, squinting painfully as his vision began to blur. "You were beautiful. You were always beautiful." He was not sure whether he was speaking to Cersei or Brienne.  _Brienne the Beauty._ He wanted to laugh, but everything hurt too much. He wanted to see her. He wanted to hold her, speak with her, let her know. He couldn't. He was falling now. "You were so...beautiful, you stupid, giant wench." 

He heard the Mountain moving above him and heard Cersei's intake of breath. He closed his eyes again, to stop the the dizziness. He imagined it was Brienne with her sword, with her exasperated and gentle expressions, with...

"Oathkeeper." he panted out, his body convulsing. He forced his eyes open, staring into Cersei's indifferent face. "I should...have left with you. With  _her."_ he corrected. The change in Cersei's face was subtle, but he saw her tense, saw the rage boil and burn in her eyes again. "She was beautiful." he blurted out, blood pooling around him. He could smell it. He could smell death curling around him with its claws. "You never loved me, Cersei." 

Cersei scoffed, her mouth turned down in a furious frown. "You betrayed me. You were supposed to be loyal to  _me."_

Jaime stared at her, his breaths short and shallow now. "Fuck loyalty." He smiled. 

Cersei's face contorted. "Kill him." she ordered the Mountain. "He is no brother of mine." She disappeared from his vision, soft footsteps echoing in the chamber. 

Jaime was still smiling, eyes closing, trying to picture what kissing Brienne would feel like as the Mountain brought his sword down on his head. 


End file.
